Page 16 of Second Shot

She nods, glancing over at the car where herfriendis still glaring at me with as much jealousy as Ifeel.

“Where are youliving?”

“I’ll textyou-”

“Brynne.”

She hesitates before answering. “Inverness andPine.”

I frown because I know exactly what type of housing is there, and there’s no way in hell I’m going to allow her to raise my kid in that neighborhood. But I’m sober enough to know that this isn’t the time to argue aboutit.

When she turns to walk away again, I lether.

I watch until the car pulls away, down the long road, disappearing behind the stonewall.

My knees buckle and I sit down heavily on the wet grass, leaning against one of the cold stones, my new reality pressing down on my shoulders like a heavyboulder.

I’m afather.

It changeseverything.

Brynne was right when she’d said I hadn’t wanted it. I’d never thought about being a parent. I’m a selfish son-of-a bitch. And the world I live in isn’t exactly family-oriented. Coach was proof ofthat.

I’ve got a son. Maybe the thought should be more terrifying than it is. But it’snot.

If anything, it just gives me a reason to finally take what I’ve wanted for too damnlong.

Chapter 4

Seven YearsAgo

Brynne

“Ican’t believeKane Madden is in your basement,” Amber squeals, glancing in the mirror above my dresser and running her fingers through her platinum blondehair.

I roll my eyes and flop down on my bed with the art history book I’m supposed to be reviewing for my exam onMonday.

“He’s just a hockey player.” I’ve been around them all my life, and Kane Madden is no different. At least, that’s what I keep telling myself, hoping one day my stupid heart will realize thetruth.

“You mean a hockey god.” She giggles like she’s a freshman in high school rather than college. “He’sgorgeous.”

“He’s okay,” I shrug, ignoring the butterflies that never fail to take flight whenever Kane’s name is mentioned. I hate that he has that effect on me. The ability to make my fingers tingle and my heart race. But no matter how hard I try to focus on the cocky arrogance he reeks of, my knees go weak every time he turns that dimpled smile onme.

“Come on, you have to introduce me,” she whines, jumping on the bed, and pulling my textbook out of my hands and tossing it across the bed. She folds her hands in front of her face and bats her eyelashes at me, begging, “Please.”

I exhale heavily. “Fine. But we’re not hanging outwith-”

“Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.” She wraps her arms around me in a tight hug. “You’re my freaking hero, you knowthat?”

I roll off the bed and shake my head at her enthusiasm. I get that not everyone grew up with Steve Jacobs as their father, and an endless stream of professional hockey players coming in and out of their house on a regular basis, but being the daughter of the Annihilators’ coach isn’t as glamourous as Amber and her sorority friends seem to think itis.

“Is that your brother?” Amber asks, bending over to look at the framed picture on my dresser of Sam and I at my high schoolgraduation.

Sam’s got his arm slung around my shoulder, his sandy brown hair hanging carelessly over his forehead, and an I-don’t-give-a-fuck-about-life smile plastered across hisface.

That’s Sam. Carefree. Fun. Gliding through life without a worry for tomorrow. The opposite of everything I am. It’s what I love about him, but it’s also what keeps getting him intotrouble.

“Is he a hockey player, too?” Amber asks, licking her lips like he’s an appetizer, with every intention of taking abite.

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